"The werewolf's existence is a danger to every man, not just the clan," Ian said. "He needs to be put down before he exposes us and hurts others."

"There you go again with your speeches." Conall strolled around Ian. "A sorry way to get attention." Conall rubbed his jaw, and for a moment, he looked so like their father that Ian felt a stab of grief. "Which sets me wondering... given as you're the only lycan claiming to have seen this wolf, well, brother, perhaps you are the one doing these deeds."

Ian laughed. He could not contain it. "Do I look like a were?" Once a man shifted fully into a wolf, he was done for. It was the warning hammered into every lycan's brain from the time they were weaned.

"No," Conall admitted, holding the irritating, smug smile that had Ian itching to swipe it off. "But then one needn't be fully changed to inflict good damage, aye?" His dark eyes narrowed. "I hear ye took Alan's head with one swipe."

If Alan was the lycan lying dead in his front hall, then yes he had. And he'd do it again. The b.a.s.t.a.r.d had been poised to launch a killing blow on Ian.

Conall's claws tore free. One gleaming tip touched the corner of Ian's right eye, pushing in just enough to hurt. "After all, we have claws too, don't we?"

Ian stared at his brother. "Enough. Why do you persist in claiming there is no were? b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l, man, the beast has attacked at least five humans. Will you disgrace your own throne-"

He saw Conall make the decision to move a second before he acted. The hit took Ian hard in the solar plexus. Ian doubled over, the urge to strike back setting his claws free. He'd been stupid to fall for Conall's baiting. Not with Daisy in the same room with him. So far, she'd stayed quiet. He'd kiss her for it later. But he would not make the mistake of thinking Conall wasn't aware of her.

"You do not question The Ranulf," Conall snarled. "You do as you are told."

Ian sucked in a hard breath. "I wasn't aware that you were telling me anything, Ranulf." Christ, man, keep your mouth shut.

Another blow caught him in the temple. He saw stars.

"Had enough?"

No, hit me again so I can rip your throat out. Ian bit his lip hard to keep his mouth shut and stayed bent over.

Conall's boots came to view. "Your talk comes close to sedition, Ian. Verra close." Conall leaned down to look Ian in the eye, and his voice went soft with menace. "An' I'm fair aching to see you cross that line and have this business done with."

They stared at each other when a sweet feminine voice broke their stalemate. "I saw the beast."

Ian ground his teeth as he cursed six ways to Sunday.

All eyes turned to Daisy. "Ah, that is, I saw the beast, sir," she corrected.

b.l.o.o.d.y woman. His claws punched free, at the ready, for no one was touching her. No one.

Daisy ought to have kept quiet, but seeing Conall lay his fists into Northrup had made her stomach turn and inflamed her sense of justice. The words tumbled out of her mouth before she could think better of doing so.

Dark eyes looked her over, and she found herself quailing.

"And who is this?" Conall asked.

"Mrs. Craigmore of Mayfair." Daisy inclined her head. She had no desire to offer her given name to this brute. "I was witness to the second killings." d.a.m.n. How did one address a lycan king? "Your Highness."

A lock of hair fell across the lycan leader's brow as he tilted his head and studied her. Northrup's brother did not wear his hair long. Did he not, then, officially mourn his father's death?

"Yet you survived?" He sounded dubious.

"By mere chance," she said. "But I saw the beast before I blacked out. His movements were odd, like a wolf's yet also like a man's."

A stir went through the crowd. Daisy hadn't known what to expect when she'd entered the court of the lycans. These people looked just like any other. But their scent was wild, calling to mind gra.s.ses and windswept meadows. They did not smell human. The notion made her shiver.

Northrup stood like a statue, not acknowledging her, but she saw the subtle flare of irritation in his eyes as he stared blindly forward. She felt another qualm of guilt. She hadn't meant to interfere.

Surprisingly, Conall's voice gentled. "And have you seen my brother and this werewolf at the same time?"

"Well..." Daisy paused. "No..."

The lycan king smiled pleasantly. "Then how do you know it is not he?"

"They do not have the same scent," she said without hesitation, but her heart was pounding. Did they all truly believe Northrup could do these deeds? She remembered the wild look in Ian's eyes just before he attacked her and she swallowed hard. It would be easy to place the blame upon his head. Perhaps that was what his brother had wanted all along. She didn't understand their ways and feared that she was in over her head.

Each step of Conall's booted feet sounded in the quiet of the hall. She clenched her hands as he came before her. His face was broader than Northrup's and not quite as refined. He had coal-black eyes, but they shared the same auburn hair color. He was a touch shorter than Northrup and a bit stockier. Certainly he did not possess the same air of natural grace that Northrup exuded. For all of that, it still unnerved Daisy to look into a face so like Northrup's, yet not.

Conall studied her with equal scrutiny. "What do you know of scents, little human?"

"Enough to know that Northrup doesn't smell like the beast that accosted me."

Conall waved an indolent hand. "I'm thinking you seek to protect your man."

"I am not!" She was. And from the gleam in his eyes, the lycan knew it.

"The sense of smell is a very powerful tool, I will give you that." His nostrils flared a bit as he drew in her scent. The very idea caused a ripple of disquiet along her skin, as if she were being considered for his evening meal. "She smells lovely," Conall said to Ian without taking his eyes from her. "Like spring flowers."

Northrup's expression was almost bored. "Aye."

Conall took a step closer to her, and Daisy caught the scent of him as well, of wet gra.s.s and turned earth. Not unpleasant, but nothing like the heady fragrance of Northrup. Conall's dark eyes roamed over Daisy. Frank appreciation flared in their depths.

"Delicious. Is she yours?" he asked Northrup as his gaze strayed to Daisy's bosom.

"No." The word was so flat and lifeless that she might have been a piece of misplaced furniture.

The heat of Conall's body warmed her arms, and Daisy swallowed down her urge to step back. His lilting voice, holding more of the Highlands than did his brother's, rumbled in her ear. "D'ye hear him, la.s.s? For all your defense of him, he won't even claim you." He ran a callused thumb over her cheek, and she fought not to wrench her head away. "Does it no' shame you to discover that your man is a coward?"

Northrup stood tall and still in the middle of the court. She shouldn't speak. She knew it was stupid to do so, but seeing Northrup surrounded by jeering fools who used the strength of their numbers to intimidate made her blood boil. "Nothing about Northrup shames me."

If anything, her words irritated Northrup, for his jaw tensed.

A puff of air caressed her cheek as Conall laughed. "Fool girl. Too blind to know real power when she sees it."

Her insides went liquid as his claw slowly dragged over her jaw, not hard enough to cut but to let her know how much it would hurt should he choose to. She held steady. "I know true power when I see it."

He did not miss the scathing bite of her words. The claw stopped at her jugular and pressed just a bit harder. "Shall we test the theory?"

Daisy looked at Conall through lowered lashes and licked her lips in a show of nervousness, but it had the desired effect as his nostrils flared again. "I hardly believe you need to prove anything, Sire."

He stared at her for a hard minute and then ran a finger slowly over the swell of her bodice as if considering what he might do with her.

Northrup's voice broke the silence. "I spoke to Lena."

Conall's jaw clenched. "Did you now?" He turned away from Daisy, and her insides sagged with relief. "Turned errand boy for the frozen b.i.t.c.h, have you?"

Northrup's mouth curled. "Perhaps I have."

Conall's hands went to his hips. "Out with it then."

Northrup's smile grew. "Oh, I think you can imagine what she might say, brother."

The entire court seemed to buzz with nervous energy upon hearing of this mysterious Lena. Whoever she was, she held a position of power. Dozens of shining eyes turned to Conall, waiting, it appeared, to see what their king would do.

Suddenly, Conall snorted. "Keep your counsel, brother. It is inconsequential to me."

Northrup's mouth kicked up at one corner. "I would expect not, brother."

Conall returned Northrup's look but his tone grew hard. "You will cease this talk of werewolves. And if I find you anywhere near another human death, I will take your head, Ian Ranulf."

Surprisingly, Ian bowed his head. "As you wish, Ranulf." He was too complacent, Daisy thought with trepidation.

Apparently his brother did not know, or consider, Northrup's more canny tendencies, for he made a sound of satisfaction. "Now that that is settled, there is one more bit of business before I'm done with ye." He turned back to Northrup. "Payment for Alan."

A ripple of excitement went through the hall, and Daisy's stomach clenched, for it held the taint of violence in it. Fangs lengthened, and the rangy scent of wolf grew deeper. All of it directed at Northrup.

Northrup didn't flinch. "Get on with it then."

"As you wish." Conall's black eyes found her, sending a chill of ice down her spine. "And let the la.s.s watch."

Chapter Twenty-two.

It was going to hurt. Hurt badly. Most men thought of torture in an abstract manner, never knowing precisely what they were in for. Ian knew. And although he'd like to think of himself as brave, a large part of him wanted to turn tail and run.

He took a breath and walked calmly out of Ranulf Hall and toward the open balcony doors. Flanked on both sides by members of the pack, he couldn't see Daisy, but he knew she was there. Her scent touched the air, an elusive tease that heightened his senses. He didn't want her to see and vowed that he would not beg, no matter how much he might want to.

Conall followed at a leisurely clip as the party moved down the terrace steps and onto the large expanse of parkland backing the house. "No trophies today, lads," he called out before slanting Ian a glance, and the crowd grumbled its disappointment. "Not this time."

Relief washed over Ian in a wave that dissipated too quickly. So he'd keep his appendages and eyes. They'd grow back eventually, but he was admittedly a vain man in regard to his appearance and didn't fancy the idea of walking around maimed, even for a short while. And h.e.l.l, regrowing a limb hurt almost as much as the injury.

s.h.i.t. He started to shake as the pack stopped and surrounded him in a wide circle. Relax. Pain grew worse with tension.

Conall strolled to the center of the circle, keeping his back to Ian. "No trophies, aye, but pound for pound he'll feel the force of Ranulf. He took one of the pack"-Conall's black gaze scanned his subjects-"when he's no' willing to come into the fold as one of us." His eyes landed on Ian, cold and calculating. Conall knew nothing of true calculation, just brute force.

Two lieutenants drew near. One ripped off Ian's shirt and the other clamped irons around Ian's wrists and neck. The heavy silver-dipped chains, designed to weaken lycans, clanked as they fell to the ground before being pulled tight by the lycans in charge of keeping him tethered. But he wouldn't fight. This was as much his show as it was Conall's.

Wrists chained, he stood tall and looked around at the lycans who would mete out his punishment. Some he knew, old lieutenants of his father who wouldn't look him directly in the eye; others were younger and l.u.s.ting for a bit of blood sport.

When Ian spoke, his voice rang strong and clear. "I accept the penalty for taking another lycan's life. For the law is clear." He turned his gaze to Conall and held it. "The leaders of Clan Ranulf have always upheld our laws. As is their right and privilege. For who else has the strength to protect the innocent? Or the bravery?" His voice rose on a wave of pride he didn't see coming, and his words came out a roar. "Dei Dono Sum Quod Sum!"

Around him, Ranulf's men raised their fists to the air and returned the cry, caught up as he was by their clan motto.

"Cease!" shouted Conall, his skin molting with rage.

Spittle flew from his lips as he stalked forward. "Will ye let this b.a.s.t.a.r.d play you the fool and distract you with his speeches? Hear your king and show what the true power of Clan Ranulf means!"

On a grumble, the lycan men settled down. They knew better than to ignore their alpha's command. Conall flashed a bit of fang at Ian as he spoke. "Teach him respect, lads. Claws and fangs!" With that chilling allowance, Ian's brother walked out of the circle and folded himself into the gilded chair a beta had set out for him.

Daisy stood next to the chair watching Ian, her skin ghostly white and her eyes wide with fear. She shouldn't have to see this. It will scar her. I'm sorry, la.s.s.

It was the last thought he had before they came for him.

Northrup was letting them tear him apart. Daisy pressed a shaking hand to her mouth as lycan after lycan came forward to slash, bite, kick, or hit him. His body jerked with each attack, blood spraying and flesh ripping open. His face was now unrecognizable, his trousers hanging in crimson-soaked tatters.

Bile rose in her throat. It was too much. Too much like the night of her nightmares, too much pain for one man to endure. Her stomach contracted, and she swallowed hard, blinking back her tears, but she would not look away. If he had to endure, she would endure too. But why had he agreed to this? He might have run. Daisy ground her teeth as she realized that had he run, he would have had to leave her behind. The scene before her eyes blurred.

The warm morning air grew thick and fetid with the stench of blood and sweat and the growing tang of aggression and excitement. There was a method to their torment. She could see that, but it was not going to last. The crowd swelled closer, the attacks becoming more brutish, one on top of the other. They'd soon break into a frenzy. She could feel it. The men had shifted at the start of the violence, their jaws elongating, mouths filling with fangs, their fingers lengthening, claws bursting from the tips. Despite herself, she pressed against the chair in which Northrup's treacherous brother lounged. She glanced at his strong profile and repressed the urge to do him violence.

"Don't like what you see?" Conall asked, not bothering to take his eyes from the carnage.

If she opened her mouth to speak, she would surely vomit. A particularly hulking lycan threw himself at Northrup, his blow opening a huge rent across Northrup's once magnificent torso. Northrup didn't make a noise as he doubled over and blood poured from his mouth. Daisy swayed. Let it end. Let it end.

"Perhaps I should have allowed them to take ears," Conall muttered.

"You sick, b.l.o.o.d.y b.a.s.t.a.r.d!"

The man lifted a slanting brow, an expression disturbingly similar to his brother's. "My parentage is secure," he said with a cold smile, "but I can appreciate the sentiment." He glanced at Northrup. "My brother thinks he knows me better than I him. He thinks he will not turn, that he'll take the beating, go free, and the clan will admire him for it." A disturbing chuckle rumbled from Conall's chest. "He knows nothing."

Conall stood and glanced at Lyall, who leaned against a nearby tree. "Lyall." Though Lyall was several feet away from them and Conall's voice did not lift beyond the level of normal conversation, Lyall stood straighter. "Finish him off when he strikes," Conall said to him. Lyall gave a short nod and pushed off from the tree.

"No!" Daisy hissed, turning on Conall. "No. You said a lesson, not death."

"Did I?" He shrugged. "I can't say as I recall those words."

She took a step toward him, fighting the need to hurt him. "Liar. You made him believe he would go free."

"Och, that's not so much a lie as a tactical maneuver, la.s.s. I needed him weakened." His amused expression traveled over her before dimming. "Ah, but it is a shame that I'll have to be involving you. A fine bit of skirt, ye are at that." A look of true pity filled his dark eyes as he watched her. "Normally, I don't fancy hurting females. It isn't sporting." He frowned, but then it cleared. "Let us call this an unfortunate circ.u.mstance of necessity, eh?"

Daisy's heartbeat sped up as he stepped closer. Her answering step back had his nostrils flaring as though scenting a chase.

"I'll have him turned," Conall said with a jerk of his head toward Northrup, who was being kicked in the hip. Northrup's eyes were vacant, as if he'd moved his mind elsewhere. "And I well know his weakness."

A blow to her cheek sent her sprawling on the ground. Somewhere beyond the ringing in her ears, she heard a shout halfway between a roar and a snarl, but then a kick to her midriff took her breath. Crawling along the ground on wobbling limbs, her mouth worked in a wordless cry, her fingers digging into the cool earth.

Vaguely, she was aware of chaos breaking out around her. Lycans ran toward a commotion. Ian. She saw him in the corner of her eye. He'd risen to his feet and was straining against the chains, his eyes flashing fire. Blood streamed from his lips, thickening his words. "You will no' touch her."